Maris is one of the shortest films I've seen all year, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have anything to say - quite contrary, in fact. A short lesson in subjectivity teaches that information can come from different sources and educational backgrounds, and there's much more nuance to learned information than meets the eye.
In I Will Die for You, a young boy dreams to be a policeman. But this is a time when our policemen are urged to be something other than the protectors of justice they're made to be. While the film is full of interesting concepts, it doesn't mesh all that well in the end. Points for trying, though.
The Kafkaesque Konsumatumes traps its protagonist in a nightmare he cannot escape. It doesn't make sense, and it shouldn't - forced disappearances and the oppressive regimes behind them aren't built on reason or logic. My problem stems from the film's musical cues, giving the very serious proceedings a silly tone that saps it of its power.
Phone Call is pretty much an advocacy film, but the problem is the message it's advocating is stripped of any nuance. The ensuing message isn't very helpful and may even be harmful, as the problems behind mental health are not tied strictly to only one cause.
Basol Balos was probably made with a budget of a few hundred pesos (or it might as well have been), though it is still entertaining. It tells the story of a horrible kid who mistreats the househelp and would give Eric Cartman a run for his money, who then runs into the househelper from hell. What takes it down a notch is the completely unnecessary ending, which invalidates what happened in favor of a cliched twist.
Sol comes from Joanna Vasquez Arong, who directed last years' To Calm the Pig Inside. This film, in my mind, cements her as a filmmaker to watch. While To Calm the Pig Inside weaves myth and reality to express trauma, this film outright shows us the aftermath of Typhoon Yolanda on three siblings - drawn to despair, crime or a desire to leave ghosts behind. It's a finely crafted character study that feels like a full length despite being less than half an hour long.
Set B
That Day is the kind of movie a lot of struggling students will identify with, and though the act of kindness at the center of the film is a good thing, one should hope that, eventually, we will live a society where it shouldn't need to happen in the first place.
Regta is about the Basi Revolt, one of the many uprisings against the Spanish occupation during the 1800s. What sets it apart from most other contemporary historical fiction is that it's a musical. Granted, it's quite possible that not all of the actors are trained in musical theater, and thus some of the musical performances don't exactly communicate the pain or struggle they are currently facing, but A for effort.
Paraiso is pretty straightforward, an environmental tale about a man destroying the very thing that keeps him alive. It's also a pretty horny film, which serves more as a distraction than anything else.
In 10,000 Errors, the English speaking denizens of heaven cater to journeymen (and women) on their way either to heaven or hell. Two of these people in particular, a politician and a mysterious person, are waiting their turn and share their lives to each other. What happens next is not surprising, but it's still entertaining either way. The film is nicely acted, but it goes on longer than it probably should.
Portraying the abuses afflicted against women is a tightrope act. One risks the problem of making the proceedings exploitative, and failing to give the woman at the center of the film any power over her situation (or at least, give her a little dignity over the whole thing) turns such a film into a miserablist affair, not unlike poverty porn. Unfortunately, Hija falls into that trap.
There is a moral to Maratabat, in that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. In the context of where the filmmaker lives, revenge is all too common. But that's all the movie has going for it. What is the film trying to tell about drugs, if at all? Overall, in terms of execution, the film doesn't feel substantial - all it is in the end is a montage of guys looking dramatically at their gunshot wounds.
I don't think Philippine Cinema will ever get over the tragic deaths of Alexis Tioseco and Nika Bohinc. Though I may not exactly agree with all of it, Alexis' words, though now relegated to magazine articles in dusty bins or defunct websites in digital oblivion, still ring true to every cinephile who lived during that time. Like this last short film's title says, Don't Worry, We Still Hear You. I wonder, though, what he'd think of the film being part of Cinemalaya, a festival that he criticized in one of his most-well known pieces. Is the festival finally "[putting their efforts] in service of Filipino Cinema?" We'll probably need a medium for that.
Set C
I don't want to spoil the conceptual richness of Rekwerdo (so I won't,) but the execution falls a bit flat, and there are tonal shifts that affect the final work.
One of my least favorite shorts in the program is Salidumay. Despite Mai Fanglayan's best effort, it's shoddy, corny, full of unnecessary music, and unable to articulate what it wants to say.
Yawyaw ni JP is very angry, and to be honest it should be. Presented from the perspective of an everyday citizen during the pandemic, it's a recap of everything that has happened so far, done through animation and clips of political cartoons. To anyone still on the fence (or anyone living under a rock for the past year,) it's a wakeup call.
The people depicted in Babu Jalhana are members of a Christian (or Christian-adjacent) community living in Sulu. This to me is a bit unusual considering the population is majority Muslim, and these people haven't been given a lot of attention in regional cinema (or cinema of any kind, for that matter.) That said, while it's an average COVID-era tale, there isn't any time to give the sociocultural milieu breathing room, and that's a bit of a shame.
I've reviewed Last 2, 3, 4, before in this blog. It's entertaining, but I couldn't help but get uncomfortable whenever the main character was subtly pressured to continue performing despite suffering an injury. It is a culture that creates winners, but leaves uncounted maimed bodies in its wake.
There's a hamminess to Pugon that would have otherwise ruined the film in any other circumstance, but its depiction of modern day debt slavery is fascinating enough that all that ham doesn't negatively impact the film overall. The film also sports a great performance from Soliman Cruz, whose slave master character is treated in the film sympathetically, or at least more than a mustache twirling villain.
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